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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368044">Of Witchers and Fae</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWithMeg/pseuds/WritingWithMeg'>WritingWithMeg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>After the mountain, Evil guy of the week, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, sloooooooooow burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:00:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWithMeg/pseuds/WritingWithMeg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the mountain someone discovers Jaskiers secret. Left with no choice he plans to make the arduous journey to Kaer Morhen to seek shelter until the people who hunt him loose his trail. A long journey is ahead, from making his way up the dangerous Witcher trail to begging whoever lives in the keep to grant him safe haven for the winter Jaskier will have to fight tooth and nail for both his life and for everything that he holds dear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Witchers and Fae</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone, and welcome to my first ever *posted* fic! This will be a hell of a ride so buckle up as we prepare to see how Jaskier handles life after the mountain. This will be updated sporadically and as I find inspiration, so here we go.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier is being hunted. He’s wanted and on the run, chased by enemies on all sides. After leaving Geralt to drown in his anger on the mountain he has been relentlessly pursued by a hunter who discovered his true nature. The hunters who pursued him are relentless in their goal of catching him to sell his body parts and to claim the fame of bringing down one of his species. The Nilfgaardians coming at him from the other side are hunting for Geralt and his darling child surprise, neither of whom he would give up even if it meant meeting his end. In all he is fucked, absolutely screwed over by the hands of destiny, left to either find a place to hide or be brutally killed at the hands of his enemies. Which has led him to where he is now, leaving the small town of Rakverelin to make the week-long trek to the Witcher fortress Kaer Morhen.<br/>
*  *  *  *<br/>
Turning off the main path is stressful to say the least. Geralt had told him “If you ever have to go to Kaer Morhen, follow my instructions exactly. Even the most experienced Witcher can be killed because of over confidence on the pathway up and if you take one wrong turn, you will be lost to the monsters roaming the mountains”. With that wonderful vote of confidence, and a helpful reminder that well, worst case scenario he’ll have to return to his long-forgotten home, Jaskier finally decides to start on the trek up the mountain. Idly strumming the beautiful elven lute that he was gifted, Jaskier sings and hums his way through the first several hours of his journey. Cold but welcome daylight settles into a biting chill as night falls and darkness slowly creeps across the mountains, leaving a humble bard to cover himself in the warm cloak that he purchased in Rakverelin as he slumps into his bedroll to eat cold rations. The fruit that he packed is sweet and far too ripe as the fall harvests of pumpkin and corn begin to far outnumber the few summer fruits. Sleep comes to Jaskier slowly as he is left to worry about the monsters and wolf’s that roam the mountainside.<br/>
As the morning light breaks over the top of the mountains, Jaskier pulls himself from his warm bedroll. Gnawing on a piece of hard, bland bread and swigging some of the bitter, cold small beer* that he had packed Jaskier rolls up his bedroll and sets off up the path once again. Singing about the beauty of the sun cresting the mountains, he nearly misses the first of several hidden turnoffs that mark the “safe” Witcher trail up the mountain. The path is barely marked by a series of trees that have been bent to show where to turn and a few rocks that look as if they have been placed by nature. Making the odd turn in the road the shrubbery seems to only yield the slightest hints of a walking path. Pushing aside the brambles and meandering past trees, Jaskier manages to follow the scant path to the next turnoff. At this point he is tired and hungry, the late fall sun high in the sky marking the fact that it is nearly noon. Sitting on a small log for rest and more hard tack, Jaskier realizes how cold it is. Even with heavy gloves made of leather and rabbits’ fur, the icy cold is seeping into his fingers, making it difficult to want to continue strumming his lute. After a solid rest and more small beer, he continues to climb the foreboding trail.<br/>
*  *  *  *<br/>
By the third of seven days, Jaskier is exhausted. Between nasty rock scrambles that threatened to drop him from precarious perches on boulders to the biting cold that has permeated his entire being, the trail is leaving him mentally and physically exhausted. The good news seems to be that the nasty hunters following him lost his trail several days before he reached the last town that he stopped in. The bad news is that Jaskier is realizing that his rations aren’t lasting as long as he had hoped that they would. Based on Geralt’s instructions he is still four days away from the keep and with the overwhelming exhaustion of keeping his glamour up while hiking hard, he will have to start setting snares at night to keep his energy up. Setting the snares that night before sleeping turns out to be the easy part. Cleaning and cooking the rabbit the morning after takes him longer than it needed too, and the sun is already high in the sky as he leaves with the second rabbit already prepared for his lunch.<br/>
Now as he makes his way up the path, he wonders what the other wolves will be like. He knows that Vesemir is a stoic older wolf, who is kind but firm and wary of outsiders. Eskel is Geralt’s age and is the level headed moderator of the bunch. The only thing that Geralt has told him about Lambert is that he is a bastard and that his insults are a thinly veiled way to show that he cares. He also knows that sometimes Witchers from other schools will often winter at Kaer Morhen. The best that he can hope for is that whoever is currently at the keep will hear him out before trying to kill him and that they will allow him to stay for the winter.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>* Small beer is a watered down ale that was used in the olden days as a substitute for water when the well/river near a town was unsafe to drink from :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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